


Edelweiss

by ThatHaircut



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHaircut/pseuds/ThatHaircut
Summary: John Smith has to go through difficult times and Juliana Crain somehow is compelled to share this with him. In their mutual pain they find some kind of solace, but can it last for two people whose worlds are miles apart ?Takes place where season 2 left off. Also on FanFiction.net





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, starting a new fanfic today, because how could I not with such a brilliant show and characters (can't believe season 3 is in 2 days!!!!!!!) ! For those of you reading my other fic What It Takes on the Walking Dead, I sincerely want to apologise for the lack of post, I assure you that I am NOT giving up on it. The writer's block has been real and I'm hoping to get back at it when TWD returns, so very soon.

**Edelweiss**

 

**Chapter 1**

 

 

The street was quiet, dead. As was George Dixon. In her ears somehow, the thundering sound of the bullet kept echoing. She had just killed a man. _Killed_ him, one single round in the back as he was walking away from her. Yes, he was going to do something despicable. Yes, he was about to have a son and potentially his dad killed in the name of the resistance but that didn’t help. Juliana had always imagined herself to be a good person. She tried her best to be, everyday. Not that she considered that she was standing on the right side or anything like that, but whenever she could help someone, she did, and it had just led to her killing a man.

 

Her hand was frantically pushing the tape deep inside her pocket vest, almost tearing it. As she was slowly coming back to her senses, it occurred to her that she couldn’t stay here and most of all, that the damn tape had to be destroyed. Juliana hurried back in the stash, there had to be some matches somewhere she thought. For some reason, as her eyes roamed over Susan’s body and the resistance’s guard, she didn’t feel anything. However, no matter how angry she was against them, she couldn’t bring herself to actually think they had deserved it.

 

There was a poor excuse for a kitchen at the back but she managed to find everything she needed in it. A pan, one tiny box of matches and even some alcohol just in case. She thought that she could use some spirit right now but resisted. A perfectly functional brain was what she needed to figure out what to do next, where to go.

Soon, the material was melting in the fire, all traces of Thomas’ deficiency gone. She watched until there was practically nothing left and finally, she breathed. At least she had achieved something, she thought. The boy was going to live.

Juliana left the gun on a nearby table, she didn’t want to have to use that weapon again . Ever.

 

Going back to her assigned apartment seemed to be the safest choice for now. Later she would continue to search for the man in the high castle. For now she simply wanted to rest and take a step back from all this mess. She had lost a lot recently. Many had died, others, well she wasn’t sure. Frank hadn’t contacted her for weeks, her parents were on the other side of the country, where she couldn’t go. And Joe…he hadn’t given any sign of life since she had helped him escape on that boat. A lot had happened since then, too much perhaps. She had been lucky though, being granted asylum by the Obergruppenführer in person is not a bet she would have taken back then. In a way she still wondered why he had welcomed her. He needed informations on Hawthorne Abendsen and his all too famous films, informations which she honestly didn’t have, or didn’t know she had. Now that she was thinking about it, she realised that she hadn’t helped him much if at all. But one thing was sure, if he kept her around, he needed her.

After all she had just killed a man for him, hadn’t she ?…

The more she reflected on it, the more it frightened her. She had helped a nazi. A _fucking_ nazi and not just some random one. The most powerful man in the American Reich.

John Smith was a clever man, she knew that. Maybe he had actually introduced her to his family in the hope that one day, without even needing to order her, she would help them. Save them.

 

What would he say if he learnt, she wondered. Would he be grateful ? Impressed ? In a twisted way she wanted him to be. He didn’t strike her as a man who held many in high regard, and the thought of potentially being part of that restricted list somewhat was appealing to her. Mentally slapping herself for thinking that way Juliana started to climb the stairs, she seriously needed some fresh air.

 

The noise of a car parking in the alley stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t dare move.

And then she saw them, men in black uniforms, _those_ black nazi uniforms. For a moment she hesitated. Fleeing back down was not an option, they would obviously search the entire area and unmistakably find her. Without really thinking, adrenaline and courage guiding her, she informed them of her presence and emerged from the stairs.

 

A flock of orders suddenly rained down on her and she wasn’t sure if she had to kneel or lay on her stomach, her hands on her head or up in the air. There were five guards, five weapons drawn towards her. Nothing different was to be expected, they had just found a dead man dressed as a nazi and a woman hiding near the crime scene. Two of the soldiers approached her and grabbed her roughly.

 

"Wait ! I need to speak with John Smith ! Please, he’ll tell you who I am, I work for him. Please, I need to talk to him !" She screamed, struggling against them, a vain effort really.

The soldiers looked at each other and laughed

 

"Yeah, and we wanna bang his wife. Can’t have everything you want, lady," one of them sneered at her, "the Obergruppenführer is in Berlin so…you’re stuck with us." Now she was panicking. Berlin ? What on earth was he doing in Berlin ? If the Führer had died, it was essential that he stay in America. Something was definitely going on. Before she could give it more thought, a bag was thrown over her head and everything went dark.

 

_Berlin, later that day_

 

John Smith’s throat was a bit too dry for his liking. Receiving national thanks from Himmler in front of a very full Volkshalle had been a…shaking experience to say the least. The silence and yet the power of this room was something else. He couldn’t decide if he had liked it or not. During the speech the only thing he could think about was his son. He regretted leaving him in those circumstances. What Thomas needed now was his mum and dad, to support him, reassure him, and the first thing John had done was taking a plane to the other side of the ocean. He hated himself deeply for it.

He was standing in the very expensive corridor, looking at nothing. In a few days, a great celebration would be held in New York, with him at the center. No need to specify that he wasn’t exactly in the mood for any of that. But he would play his part, as he often did so well.

 

Someone cleared his throat behind him and he turned around to see Major Klaus Hein

"Obergruppenführer, Sturmbannführer Erich Raeder for you on line 3. He says it’s urgent" said the man with a distinguished German accent. John simply nodded and strode towards the phone. His Sturmbannführer was very rarely the one to call for official cases, he suspected that this was maybe a personal matter. He checked briefly that no one stood too close and picked up the device.

 

"Erich ?"

 

"Sir ! Everyone is talking about your appearance with the Reichsführer, you made it !" The younger man said enthusiastically

 

John shifted uncomfortably "Yes, it was this close but Martin Heusmann has been arrested and taken into custody," he cleared his throat, "I suppose you didn’t call just to congratulate me ?"

 

"Huh no, Sir," he cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed, "we might have a problem. I have it on good authority that a part of our wiring network has been hijacked. It might be the resistance’s work."

 

"I see…" John said pensively. It was not the first time if he recalled correctly. Normally, the authorities would have fixed the problem, they didn’t need to go through him to take action. "Why are you telling _me_ , Erich ? Is there anything particular I should know ?"

 

"When she arrived, you told me that Miss Crain was a special case and that I had to report to you directly for everything that involved her." John made an acknowledging sound. "It appears that her apartment as well as the entire residence were the targets".

There was a moment of silence, and John felt like the earth would open below his feet and swallow him whole. If they had listened within the past week then they knew. They knew about his son and soon, his entire family would be thrown under the bus. What he knew was that he had to act quickly, what he didn’t know was what the hell to do. He was a rational man, realistic, and the way he saw it, he was fucked. However, it had already been a few days since Thomas had visited Juliana and nothing had happened. Maybe they had missed it, maybe they hadn’t listened to the footage yet. If there was the smallest chance for him, he needed to seize it.

 

On the other end of the line, Erich was going a little confused

"Sir ?"

 

"Hum, yes, I’m still here. Erich, you haven’t told anybody else, right ?" He knew he had given him the order not to, but he needed to be sure on this

 

"No, Obergruppenführer"

 

"Good, let it stay that way. I will be back as soon as possible, you need not worry about it"

 

"But, Sir-"

 

"Erich," John warned in a authoritative tone. He knew the Sturmbannführer didn’t mean to upset him but he really needed his entire support here, "I’ll get it fixed. They were only interested in Miss Crain and I know exactly what they were after. Trust me, the Reich isn’t in danger. I need this to stay between us, do you understand."

 

There was a slight pause but as expected, Raeder agreed with his superior

"Yes I understand, Obergruppenführer".

 

"Thank you Erich, I will not forget this. We’ll speak soon."

 

"Sir, there is-" But John was in a hurry and had already hung up.

 

Erich was a good man, trustworthy, and John was thankful to have a person like that working for him. The young man admired him, worshipped him even. He had learnt so much after years at his side. Sometimes, he worked more for John than he did for the Reich. It was not the first time he had helped him on unofficial matters.

John also realised that he was saving his life, for the second time. He had to make it count.

 

He needed to go back to New York as soon as possible. Although he didn’t have anything resembling a plan yet, it would be easier to deal with the problem from there. He would tell his troops that an important tape had to be retrieved and that it was simply one of the man in the high castle’s work. Hopefully they would find it in time and return it directly to him without asking questions, as they always did. It was a risky plan, yes, but it was the best available for now and he was pressed for time. He was at stake, but that wasn’t the most important. The life of his son was at stake.

It didn’t take much time before he excused himself to Himmler and booked the first plane available to New York.

 

_New York, Greater Nazi Reich_

Thrown in a car then into a dark cell, if you could call this that, Juliana had seen better days. At the moment she couldn’t see anything. The soldiers had left her alone in the room but had decided to leave the bag over her head. It was slowly getting hard to breathe. Repeatedly she tried to call for somebody, but there was absolutely no sound nearby. The room was closed, there were no bars.

If they needed something from her, they would have started beating her already. She was here for homicide apparently. George Dixon was a member of the resistance, surely it wasn’t considered an actually crime to kill one of them. Oh how awful that sounded, she thought. That is true, she had hated them, hated him for planning to sell Thomas Smith to the authorities. But using George’s death and potentially pretend to be proud of it in order to be released was…cruel. It was not something she could have ever thought of a month ago. It wasn’t her and it was wrong. But after all, what was left of right and wrong in this world ?

 

Her wrists were hurting, her shoulders too. The ground felt unbelievably cold against her bare calves. Next time she’ll wear pants. Through the stitches of the bag she could discerne a bluish light coming from above. She doubted there were any windows but maybe there was an opening on the ceiling. To be honest, she didn’t have any plan to escape, she was just passing the time. How long had she been there ? Hours ? Probably just minutes actually.

When suddenly a door swung open, Juliana couldn’t help but jump. Her senses had been so aware of every single sounds in the room, it felt like a gun had been triggered right next to her ear.

The door closed, slowly, and footsteps made their way towards her.

 

"Stand up, please" a man’s voice said above her. It was commanding but not aggressive.

 

It was easier said than done though, with her hands tied to her back. But she had strong legs, she managed to get up without much trouble. The man then slowly lifted the bag from her head and the air, actual air, finally filled her lungs. The room was still very dark and her guess had been right, there was indeed a window in the high ceiling that let natural light come in. There was nothing but a simple table with two metallic chairs in the middle of the room. Those guards truly had been assholes by making her sit on the ground. When her eyes finally adjusted to the new setting, the face of the officer looked familiar, and as he went behind her to undo the handcuffs, she tried to recall his name but it didn’t turn out to be very fruitful.

 

"I apologise for the rough arrest, Miss Crain. Our men can be quite ungracious when misinformed. Please, have a sit," he suggested as he pulled out a chair for himself. Juliana wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that he knew who she was but she would find out soon enough. Hopefully he was a friend.

Under the table, her hands were shaking, she had often been under pressure recently, with her work for the resistance. What she hoped for was a little time for herself, to simply live. Now she realised how much she missed the Pacific States, the mornings at the dojo, breakfast on the Bay. New York was…exhausting and busy. The high buildings were so oppressing, she found, like a well disguised trap.

 

The officer cleared his throat and she met his eyes

"I’m Sturmbannführer Erich Reader. I believe we met before, when you were seeking asylum into the Reich," he said suggestively and she automatically remembered. The tension in her muscles wore off a little. Whenever John Smith was around he was too. She knew they were close and that Smith trusted him with his life. As long as she was under his watch, nothing should happen to her. She hoped, more than she believed.

 

"If this is about the person your men found in the ally, I will not lie to you," Juliana said plainly, gathering all the courage she had, "It was me who killed him."

The expression she saw on Erich’s face was unexpected, as if he already knew and didn’t care. He shook his head.

 

"You mean George Dixon ? He was an important member of the resistance, Miss Crain. As far as I’m concerned you did the Reich a great favor. You will not be charged for this." It was reassuring news of course, but then why had they bothered arresting her in the first place, and mostly kept her locked in this room. She shifted in her seat, should she ask him ? That would give away that there was indeed something she had that they wanted. Fortunately he saved her the trouble.

 

"Miss Crain, we have solid reasons to believe that the resistance was spying on you through bugs placed in your apartment. Did you have any knowledge of that ?" Juliana had to be very careful now, although the Sturmbannführer was loyal to John, he would probably wouldn’t agree on the idea of him hiding his son’s decease to the Reich. Moreover, there was Dr. Adler’s death. Anyone with a functional brain would easily understand that John was no stranger to it. Juliana decided to remain as vague as possible.

 

"I would suspect they would try something like that but no, I wasn’t aware…Why would they seek to listen to me ? I’m nobody, really."

 

"You were granted asylum by the Obergruppenführer himself, that tends to draw attention. Even to me I must admit, I don’t know the exact reason as to why he accepted your request…" Erich was expecting her to enlighten him a little, but she simply smiled and remained silent. "Is there anything you’ve done, said, or know that could have caught their interest ?"

 

She acted as though she was reflecting deeply on it, knowing pertinently that she wouldn’t give anything to him. In a way, she was thankful it was not John’s face she had to lie to. He always knew, he always was the smartest person in the room. Whatever she talked about, he always seemed to be able to tell wether it was true or not.

 

"I’m sorry, I really don’t see." And it was enough for him.He got up from is chair and motioned for her to follow him.

 

"Please, we need you to write a full statement on what happened with George Dixon. It’s a formality so feel free to skip the details."

 

After apologising again for the handcuffs and the treatment, he took her to a much more comfortable waiting room, with soft chairs and she sat at the table to write. Erich excused himself and exited the room to make a phone call.

For a moment, Juliana experienced a sort of writer’s block. How to write about a murder you had just committed ? What to say ? She didn’t know where to start, where to end more precisely. The scene played on repeat in her mind as she wrote it. The gruesome details came back but she didn’t write most of them. People would say whatever they want, it was as the Reich worked. The truth was always and exactly how the Nazis wanted it to be.

 

She signed the paper and dried her teary eyes as Erich walked back in. Just as she was about to ask him if she could leave, she noticed the doubtful expression on his face. There was a problem, a change of plans, maybe she couldn’t get away with murder so easily after all. He took the statement and cleared his throat

 

"Thank you. Hum, I’m sorry, Miss Crain, but I’m afraid I can’t send you back home right away."

 

"Is there a problem ?" She asked worriedly

 

"No, I mean not exactly." He took one step forward so that he was almost whispering in her ear "I just had a call from the Obergruppenführer, he’s requested that you stay here at the headquarters until his return. He asked me to escort you to his office." As he backed away, he looked just as surprised as her. Perhaps even more. 

 

"I don’t understand" Juliana stammered

 

"I have to confess that neither do I, but it sounded very important."

 

Without another word, they headed towards John’s office. They exchanged curious looks in the elevator, neither of them knowing what other adventures this day was to bring.

Juliana tried to recall any personal business she had had with John, because clearly, if even Erich didn’t know what that was about, then it was about something only her and Smith were involved in.

Only when Erich opened to door to his superior’s office did Juliana acknowledge she had never been in it. It was enormous, with an incredible, probably the best view possible over New York.

 

"The Obergruppenführer should be in his plane by now. He won’t be here until a few hours so make yourself comfortable and if you need anything, just ask Major Klemm, he’s right outside the office."

 

The Sturmbannführer exited the large room and closed the door, didn’t lock it. Juliana sat on the nearest couch to reflect on what was going to happen now. No answer seemed to come to mind however.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here was my take on tmithc, hope you enjoyed it. This will very probably won't be a long fic (around 6 or 7 chapters maybe), unless I have a lot of plots in mind (which is unlikely). As you can see I dropped the Julia Mills stuff because it would have made things complicated: who calls her Julia ? Who calls her Juliana...Also, this won't be very sci-fi, if at all, because I'm not good at writing it and that would mean writing a veeeery long fic. BIG WARNING here, I am not a very fast writer so please be patient, I'll make it worth the wait ;)  
> PS: I'm not a sucker for reviews, but if you have any thoughts, let me know


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, been busy binge watching season 3 !! How awesome was that, right ! I'm trying not to be influenced by it too much, because I feel characters like Juliana have changed completely between the two seasons so...Anyway I hope you enjoy the read :)  
> I forgot to say that I'm not a native English speaker so mistakes tend to happen, don't be alarmed
> 
> Oh and in case you didn't know, I figured out how to post nonsense on Tumblr if you wanna check it out: thathaircut (yeah I love that name a lot, even though I can't remember where it came from^^)

**Chapter 2**

 

 

The house had never been so quiet at diner time for the Smiths. Helen was absently looking at the empty chair in front of her, trying hard to hold back her tears before her two daughters. During the entire afternoon she had tried to convince herself that Thomas had done what the Reich wanted from its citizens. It had only ended up with her throwing the furnitures of the bedroom on the ground and cursing the Reich out loud with utter fury.

When Jennifer asked her why mama was angry, she simply smiled and told her everything was going to be alright. Helen didn’t tell them, she couldn’t, didn’t have the strength or will to do it. She had sat on the floor against the bed and resisted the urge to down an entire bottle of scotch.

 

There was no one she could share her grief with, not even John. She hated him. Truly. Accusing him of being responsible for Thomas’ condition had been one step too far, Helen recognised that, but leaving for Berlin on a moment like this one, that she couldn’t take. Their son had surrendered himself to the public health department because John hadn’t been there to stop him. Things would have been very different if he had remained at the house, and Helen couldn’t forgive him for that.

After having cleaned herself in the bathroom, she had went downstairs and told the girls to set the table as if everything was normal.

 

Amy and Jennifer remained silent while eating, sometimes exchanging worried looks. They weren’t sure of what was going on. Thomas had left without warning, their mother had cried and broken things upstairs but everything seemed, somewhat, like any another day.

Right after dessert they asked if they were free to go, but Helen nicely asked them to stay a while longer, saying that she had to tell them something very important. The time had come, it would have been unfair to hide the truth from them and it was her duty as a mother to keep the family strong in the hardest times.

 

At first there was incomprehension, Amy was still very young and not entirely familiar with Eugenics policies. Jennifer already knew a great deal about it but it made no sense to her. She hadn’t noticed anything in her brother’s behaviour that could have given away any serious decease. There had been that time, when he had fell while climbing down the stairs but that could happen to anyone on a bad day, she thought.

Without really saying the words, Helen made them understand that they would never see their brother again. Watching their faces sadden and burst into tears hurt so much but she held back her own. It was essential that she remain strong and supportive, because nobody else would do it for her.

The three of them decided to sleep in the master bedroom after multiple nightmares successively woke them up. They held each other tight and desperately tried to find sleep together.

 

 

_SS Headquarters, NY_

In the soon to be Oberstgruppenführer’s office, Juliana had explored the deepest corners of boredom. She had tried and done everything to keep herself entertained. Well aware there could be some cameras, she hadn’t pried too much. The size of the room was ridiculous, she thought, but also admitted that the furnitures were splendid. At least the ones which were not bearing Swastika crosses. The walls were decorated with a few paintings of which she didn’t know the authors. Greek-like statues, as always, near the desk and of course a large portrait of the Führer right behind the chair. Juliana contemplated it and agreed on the fact that she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything with his face above her like this. Soon enough, the portrait would be taken down and replaced with Himmler’s one. New man, same thing.

 

Smith’s desk was just like him, ordered, plain and all about family. A picture of his wife, Helen, rested between a family portrait and another picture of John and Thomas fishing together by a lake. And there it was, the memory of killing George Dixon in cold blood in the prospect of saving Thomas. The bright side of the story could never erase the darker one and she would bear this terrible memory for the rest of her life. However, there was a part of her, deep down, that really believed she had made the right choice. She needed at least that.

Just when she saw the clean ashtray in the middle did she realise how much she needed a smoke. She was this close from searching the drawers but managed to hold back the urge to do so.

 

After an hour finally, a living soul entered the room. It was Major Klemm who nicely asked her if she needed anything, a coffee, something to eat. Juliana gladly accepted the coffee and downed it as soon as he came back with it. Before living he told her they had some books available if she wanted. Her hopes were not high on the content of the books but she accepted anyway, all things considered it was better than nothing.

Quickly enough, she got tired of reading that nazism was the greatest order in the world and so on and started to fall asleep in the comfortable leather couch.

Joe, Frank, her Trudy, those were the faces that kept coming in her dream. Nightmare ? It was neither one or the other. Just memories, pictures that she couldn’t quite place. Some of them had probably never occurred.

 

It was long past midnight when Major Klemm came back to wake her up and inform her of Smith’s arrival. Through the window the night was dark and it was raining cats and dogs. From this height and point of view New York didn’t seem frightening and oppressing, no it looked absolutely magnificent. The lights of the tall buildings made the city glow in a way Juliana had never witnessed. So very different from the Pacific States.

Her thoughts were brutally interrupted when John Smith walked in, almost kicking the door on his way. The major saluted him with a sharp Sieg Heil and then left the room on his orders.

 

John looked her up and down with that smirk of his, irritating yet equally disconcerting. He pouted his lips and went to lay his long leather coat on the desk chair, putting his wet cap on his desk and deactivating the listening device of the room. As he returned to face her, hands stuffed in his pockets, Juliana tried to look as composed as possible as she knew he would analyse each movement she would make, each word. 

The light was dim in the room, it accentuated every feature of his. Those razor sharp cheekbones, his thin lips, lightly curved upward. A smug yet surprisingly soft face all things considered. Juliana didn’t know were to look, she never did with him. He tended to have that effect on most people, so she’d heard from the mouth of wealthy women of the Reich, she was no exception. Her pupils went to the floor, then the medals on his chest, and whatever was behind him only to return her gaze back down.

 

After an excruciating wait, he did that on purpose, he finally broke the deafening silence

"Good morning, Miss Crain," very early morning, yes, but still the morning, "I hope the wait wasn’t too long ?" _oh, yes it was_

 

"No, it’s okay, Obergru- hum John. Mr. Raeder said it was very important so.." Juliana couldn’t remember the man’s title but Smith didn’t seem to be bothered by it, instead he nodded and moved towards one of the large armchairs.

 

"I’m sorry for keeping you here that long, I heard you’ve had a…complicated day. _Mr._ Raeder told me you killed someone ?" There was surprise in his voice but it was moderate. Like he had said when he had paid her a visit in her apartment, she was much stronger than she wanted people to know. Juliana nodded quietly, her gaze avoiding him still.

 

"How the mighty have fallen." He said, more as a compliment. "Oh, don’t look so gloom, Miss Crain, I don’t care if you kill or who you kill just as long as it’s not my men. Please, make yourself comfortable, we might be here for some time" he informed her before literally falling backwards in the smooth armchair. He was exhausted, from the flight, the ceremony at the Volkshalle, from trying and succeeding to stop the supposed war to end all wars. But he didn’t have time to rest unfortunately, his son was still in danger, he had to find that tape no matter what. Oh little did he know…

 

With an attentive eye he watched her sit down and do her usual mannerisms. Adjusting her skirts when they didn’t need to be adjusted, tucking her hair behind her ear more often than necessary or scrubbing the tip of her fingers in an obsessive manner.

John honestly didn’t think she had anything to do with the tape, but she had had contacts with multiple members of the resistance. Any information she might have on them was of great value to him.

He leant forward a bit and cleared his throat, any smirk definitively gone from his face.

 

"I heard my son Thomas came to see you a few days ago" he started and Juliana’s heart started to beat faster. If he knew that she knew, then he was aware she was a threat for Thomas. John Smith didn’t joke when it came to family. "Tell me, what did you two talk about ?" He knew of course, having seen footage from the cameras placed in her apartment, he just needed to know he could trust her completely. The hesitation was big and clear on her face

 

"It’s all right, you can tell me" he half smiled and that helped her gather the courage somehow

 

"He wanted to talk about…He said you and your wife were hiding something from him. He thought he was sick and that he had let you down" John swallowed at that. The thought of his son considering himself as defective, as a useless eater was unbearable to him. And it was his fault, he had raised him like this. Of course he had chosen to do so to protect him, but today he was threatened by the very system he had thought would protect him. He focused his attention on the woman in front of him

 

"Do you know what that means ?"

 

For a brief moment, Juliana wondered what he was playing at. Knowing Smiths methods she should already be dead by now. She knew way too much. But yet there she was with the man himself. Considering his question for a moment, she was well aware of what happened to sick people in the Reich, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it to him, regarding the situation

 

"I- If he can be cured then-"

 

"He can’t be cured, Miss Crain" he interrupted in a low voice, looking down at the table in front of him. "If this gets out, my son will be handed over to the health department and…he’ll be killed." A hard thing to say, even for him. This was the first time Juliana heard a tremor in his voice. He was visibly afraid and had every right to be, it was just very unusual for him.

 

Without going as far as saying that she felt sorry for him, Juliana couldn’t help but be on his side. Thomas was just a boy, a sweet boy, and John was not the Obergruppenführer of the American Reich at this moment, just a frightened dad, trying to save his son.

 

"What I’m about to tell you is…very sensitive intel that is only known by me and Sturmbannführer Reader. No one else." He paused, making sure he had her full and undivided attention, "As you know, we have this thing in the Reich, bugging everyone’s apartments, listening to conversations for the sake of…safety. I’ve seen your encounter with Thomas, it was all recorded. And yesterday I got word that the resistance managed to obtain a copy of it and intends to report him to the authorities. Now I know it’s been a trying day for you, Miss Crain, and I know your ties with the resistance are limited," that was an understatement, but that also meant he knew she still had contacts with them. That was treason, fortunately for her, that was the least of his worries at the moment, "but if you know anything on that tape and who might be in possession of it, I need you to tell me now." His green eyes pierced right through her when she looked up at him, a true living lie detector.

 

Now might be a good time to explain why she had killed George Dixon, Juliana thought. Surely it was _that_ tape he was talking about, had to be.

 

"I’d advise you not to lie to me, Juliana," it was the first time he used her given name, things were getting serious, "this is about my family, trust me you don’t want to upset me on that" he warned her.

 

There was a long silence, not for the sake of suspense or anything, but Juliana was processing the fact that she had really managed to save the boy after all, that her actions had finally served a purpose. A tear rolled down her cheek, raising John’s concern. She dried it right away

 

"Miss Crain ? Are you alright ?" He got up to sit on the sofa, centimetres away from her "If you know anything, please, just talk to me."

 

"The man I shot yesterday, his name was George Dixon…my sister’s father," she watched as Smith frowned at the information, "I assure you it is the only reason why I had contacts with him". She lied and John waved her excuse away, focusing on what mattered

 

"What does Mr. Dixon has to do with the tape ?"

 

"He was going to deliver the tape, he had it when I…shot him."

 

John’s frown intensified, he was generally quick to pick up on things but now, none of this made sense. He shook his head

 

"I- I don’t understand, why would you shoot him ?" Very slowly the answer started to take form in his head, yet he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He needed to hear it from her

 

"I have many flaws, John, letting an innocent boy die is not one of them." Juliana said, "He left me no choice. He was walking away from me with the tape, I shot him in the back. I had to" Her voice was almost just a whisper now. It was always painful to think and talk about the memory. John leaned forward a bit

 

"And where is the tape now ?" He inquired, hoping she had destroyed it and not simply thrown it somewhere.

 

"I burnt it"

 

The lines of his face softened completely, he exhaled hard and put his hands on his face. Leaning deep inside the couch, he rested his head on the backrest. Throughout the day he had prepared for the worst, imagining countless scenarios in which the story ended very badly for his family. In a way he had prepared himself mentally for the worst to come. But then Juliana had happened. Always Juliana. As he looked at her he found it hard to believe that this woman was capable of harm, let alone shooting a man in the back. Perhaps he should remember that in the future, just in case. For now he just..admired her. He was relieved and thankful. Of course he would restrain his emotions in front of her, he had a reputation to maintain, but he would not forget this.

 

"Miss Crain, I - thank you for what you did. I know it mustn’t have been easy for you. I’m afraid I owe you again." That was good to know.

 

John gave her a slight smile and she returned it. Turns out they ‘worked’ rather well together. After contemplating each other awkwardly he was the first to get up

 

"You really must be tired, I’ll have a car ready for you" he offered and she nodded.

 

There was a knock on the door and Erich Raeder walked in, a strange expression on his face

 

"Obergruppenführer, the mission report you required" he said, handing him a large file. "Huh, if I may, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your son" he lowered his gaze and started to walk away. John’s stomach flipped and he and Juliana exchanged worried looks

 

"My son ?"

 

"Yes, I just learnt through this morning’s first draft that he had surrendered himself to the public health department. I had no idea, Sir. It must be really hard for you, if you need anything…"

 

John couldn’t hear anything he was saying. The world, his world was collapsing around him and he feared he was about to die on the spot.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

 

It took all of John’s strength to keep from fainting in front of Erich before the latter exited the room. His brain refused to answer correctly, his members were completely paralysed by the shock of this terrible news. His hopes going back and forth all day long to finally learn that all he had done had been for nothing. The blow was hard, it was dirty and it was cruel. He could picture his son now, in the van of the health department, riding towards those awful hospitals. It was probably already over for him, surely he was just ashes now. There would be no body, John realised, feeding a little more the pain he was already feeling. He cared little for national tribute, as it only meant that his son would be used as propaganda for the Reich. Oh the country wouldn’t be very supportive in the days, probably weeks to come, if only for the benefit and promotion of the propaganda.

 

He was so deep in his thoughts that he forgot Juliana was still standing here. At least she had had the good reflex of sitting down. Her face half buried in her hands, her mind was racing, searching for a solution, any solution she could come up with. John’s was too chocked to think of any of that. Her ability to see the very best in people also allowed her to believe that a fight was never over, no matter how bad the situation. Hijacking the vehicle, infiltrate the hospital disguised as a nurse and kidnap Thomas, crazy ideas were flowing but time, time was not their ally. The urge to share her foolish plans with the father of the boy in question rose and she turned to him, only to see a pale copy of the powerful man she had come to fear and respect over time. There was nothing she recognised in him, not the twinkle of malice in his eyes, not this particular face that was somehow always threatening, no matter the time of day. The ruthless Obergruppenführer was gone, John Smith was gone, before her remained a man gnawed by grief and despair. For now he was at the stage of processing the idea of never seeing his boy ever again, dead or alive.

 

In her goodness, Juliana didn’t even think of the things she had done the day before, all she saw was this young innocent boy, everything he would miss, what he could have accomplished, almost forgetting how he had been raised and what he would have inevitably turned out to become. Surely he aspired to politics, the SS corps and so on, however Juliana liked to entertain the idea that he might have turned his back on nazism. A silly thought really, she realised that. The same way she was starting to accept that there was no plan good enough to save him.

 

Very slowly she stood up and approached John. She didn’t dare touch him, she had never touched him before, not even to say hello. So many times before they had been in each other’s company, they had talked, shared diner with his family, yet none of them actually knew how the other felt like. Physical comfort, in times like this, she knew, often felt good when you thought there was nobody around willing to understand your pain. The warm and tight embrace of someone’s arms, their hands holding yours, the feel of a solid body against a fragile one. Undeniably, all these little attentions made people feel better for some reasons. Did that mean it worked on John Smith too ? He was all but an ordinary man. Smart, conflicted, ruthless, charming and intimidating. Many times Juliana had tried to put him in a box, to analyse him fully, to this day she found he never fitted anywhere.

 

There were no tears in his eyes, but the suffering was clear. He was holding them back, not for her though, for himself, his reputation and also, he couldn’t afford to be weak. He had decided that a very long time ago, when he was still just a teenager, to never allow himself to break, no matter the circumstances.

Guilt was slowly starting to pour over him. Towards the Reich, Thomas had been loyal to a fault, right to his very end and it was because of his father’s too perfect education. His boy was that good, too good and innocent, it felt so unfair that he was the one who had had to go at such a young age.

Helen and John had not lied when they had told him how proud they were of him, Thomas was not just the prefect son every family wished for, he was also a great person. Every single one of his classmates would have said the same, the neighbours, his sisters too. Always willing to help, polite and enthusiastic, not to mention a good student. The Smiths had always been the reference dream family of the American Reich after all, everyone looked up to them and secretly envied the life they were living. Not so much at the moment though. They were living the hardest times since the bombing of Washington DC.

Helen’s words kept ringing in his head _Your brother had it, now my son has it_. He couldn’t help but believe he was responsible for it, at least indirectly. He had been spared from this disease for some reasons so why not his son ? And what about the girls, his two precious girls, what if they carried the defect too ? He pushed those thoughts aside as the situation was painful enough as it was.

 

Finally succeeding to manage some consistent thoughts, John couldn’t remember exactly how much time had passed between the day he had learnt about his son’s decease and yesterday, everything seemed to have escalated so quickly. With a snap of fingers his life had gone from heaven on earth to a never ending nightmare, he was not used to change and now he hated it.

 

It was only when Juliana stepped in his field of view that he acknowledged he wasn’t the only person in the room and that she had been focused on him for quite a while. Even when vulnerable, she noted, he still looked menacing, always in charge. She had been watching him with those blue eyes that bore more tears than his, almost more regret, for not having been able to do more to save the boy. Neither of them knew what they were supposed to do now, surely staring in each other’s soul wasn’t the greatest idea so Juliana gathered her courage to make the first step. First she relieved him of the file Erich had brought to him and placed it on the coffee table. It was a miracle he hadn’t dropped it on the floor already. Then, tentatively, she put her hand on the expensive material covering his arm and offered him a seat. As always, she noticed, the uniform was impeccable. It suited him and she liked it more than she cared to admit.

Upon their first established physical contact he didn’t shift or jerk her hand away, but exhaled loudly, focusing his gaze on a random point of the floor. He was tempted to sit down and talk with her for as long as was needed, to ease the burden but he had to see Helen and the girls. He could only imagine how they were feeling. Had they seen it ? Thomas being taken away by the authorities ? John was picturing the scene now, trying to imagine how it had happened. He hoped, at least, that it hadn’t been violent. The outcome was the same anyway but still.

 

Gently he turned to her, removing her hand but keeping a light hold on it. In other words they were practically holding hands. The act was completely innocent and unbidden but Juliana suddenly found it hard to breathe and she stopped moving completely, waiting for him to proceed.

She tended to forget he was capable of gentleness, she had seen it with his family, but being at the center of it was an entire different experience.

His hands were hot compared to hers, it felt good and for a moment she wished she could enjoy the comfort of it a little longer. That was not his place, to comfort her, she knew. Just as it was not her place to ask comfort from him. However, Juliana couldn’t deny the man had always sparked something in her, ever since the day they’d met. Something she had desperately tried to make go away because of his position in the Reich and mostly because of his family, although never succeeded. Lucy Collins had put it perfectly, _dreadfully handsome_ , those were the words for it, for him.

 

The man in question squeezed her hands between his, catching her attention. He cleared his dry throat

 

"I should probably go home," he said, his voice breaking a little between each word, "I need to be there." Juliana nodded instantly, attempting to get her hands back, but he held tight on them. She raised questioning brows. John didn’t care about George Dixon, in any way, what he understood however was that killing him had been a hard thing to do for Juliana. He just wanted to let her know.

 

"I’m sorry that your…sacrifices were for nothing, Miss Crain. I know it’s not what you do." For a moment she wondered if he was just concerned because he felt emotional at the moment, or if he genuinely cared and saw that she, too, was suffering from his son’s death.

 

"I liked Thomas very much, you know." she said as he released her hands, not really knowing why she was throwing this out there. Probably to let him know that she was more moved by Thomas’s demise than having had to kill her sister’s father, because truly, she was fond of the boy. He had always been lovely with her, helping her with her tests, sharing stories with her. She had even suspected him of having a teenage crush on her, which was sweet really. There was also the way he talked about things, he was passionate, curious, full of life, it was cruel that the disease had to hit him.

 

"It’s unfair, what happened to him. I’m really sorry." As she recalled a few memories a tear dropped down her cheek, which gave John a strange feeling. Was it odd that she cried for Thomas and he didn’t ? The feeling of being simply a cold nazi soldier and not a father when he needed to be crept under his skin and it was intolerable.

 

"That’s very nice of you to say, Miss Crain" he said, trying to ignore his intrusive thoughts and failing miserably

 

"I mean it, really," wrongly she thought that maybe he was doubting her sincerity, she never was entirely sure with him. At last he met her eyes again, and he saw it, acknowledged it

 

"I know," he concluded with a slight smile, "I know."

 

After an awkward moment of staring, John decided it was finally time for them to part.

 

"I think we both need a good night’s sleep, or what’s left of it anyway. Erich will drive you home."

 

Gladly, she accepted the offer and a few minutes later, they were saying goodbye on the headquarters parking lot. Juliana followed Erich in the Mercedes while John took the time to light a cigarette. Soon he was completely alone, standing by his car, trying to decide on whether he really wanted to go home. Not that he wanted to run away from his family duties, quite the contrary in fact, he wanted to be there for them but he felt, he knew, he wouldn’t be welcome. Reluctantly he crushed the cigarette under his foot, took his place in the driver’s seat and started rolling. Multiple times over, he thought about charging into a tree and see what happened. That would be easy of course, too easy and low for a man like him. Usually he was prepared for anything, had every answer at the ready but now, he was unsure of what was waiting for him at home.

He parked the car but didn’t exit right away, resting his forehead on the steering wheel, asking to himself how all of this had happened despite everything he had done to protect his family. Not hoping for an answer and receiving none, he got out and began the long walk towards the door. The light of the kitchen was lit which made him curse under his breath. Never had it been so hard to come home from work, he pushed the door slowly and headed to the kitchen where Helen was sitting.

 

She almost jumped when she saw him, not having expected him to come back before a few days. A bottle of whisky laid on the table, a full glass sitting next to it. Needless to say it was not the first. The look on her face was one of measured hatred and rejection and John figured he could have slept at the office because clearly, his wife didn’t want him here.

 

"You’re still up" he said concerned

 

"You’re back" she dodged, determined not to let him lecture her. She was in no mood, and in no state for that matter.

 

"I had to be there." Helen laughed in disdain and took a long sip from her drink. Now this was becoming dangerous, John thought as he strode towards his wife and attempted to take the glass from her.

 

"Oh, you’re right about that, John. You had to be there, simply not now !" she grunted with furry, rising from her chair and trying to get away from him as he grabbed her arm. "Stay away from me !" Helen yelled when her palm more or less intentionally connected hard with his cheek. The action made them both stop and stare at each other, breathing hard and realising that all this nonsense was leading nowhere.

 

John stepped back a bit, leaving his wife some space to breathe.

"Helen, please, put the glass down, I think you’ve had enough" he said in a calming voice. It was not the first time he had to deal with Helen in this particular state, however the circumstances were slightly different today.

 

"Yes, I’ve had enough, John. I’ve had enough for a lifetime" she answered, not talking about the drink though, but about what was happening to them. Exhaustion was clear on her face and soon she was putting the glass down and falling in John’s arms in tears.

They needed that, he as much as her, the comfort of someone’s arms. Yes, even John Smith, although that didn’t mean he could finally let go. Helen was in an indescribable mess and he would have to pay really close attention to her in the coming days.

 

When they finally decided to go to bed, they didn’t go together. Helen went upstairs but John didn’t follow. He felt it was too soon and that despite the fact that she had accepted his embrace earlier, she was still pretty angry with him. He didn’t blame her as he felt she had every right to be.

Tiredness overtook him suddenly and he went to sit on the couch to spend what was left of the night. A picture on the wall caught his attention. A family picture. They were all there and they looked so happy. That wasn’t so long ago, John remembered, and it hurt like hell.

 

He took off his boots and socks, unbuttoned his vest and placed it carefully on the backrest, then lowered his suspenders and put his medal on the table before trying to get comfortable on the large couch and undoing the top buttons of his white shirt.

They hadn’t done that in a long time, sleeping in separated rooms. After all they had always been the perfect couple, both in public and private. Everything would be different now, oh so very different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a tough one to do ! In a way I find it hard to write about John’s feelings, especially grief, sadness, etc since you never quite know what he’s thinking on the show, he’s got that sort of shell around him you know. So this is really my take on it, sorry if that’s not what you had in mind.
> 
> Thanks to y'all who left kudos and comments, and welcome to the new readers, hope you're enjoying this story !


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